


A Convenient Excuse

by Eva



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Clyde - Freeform, Gen, Remus - Freeform, Romulus - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 09:00:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1260628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eva/pseuds/Eva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus has a bit of an adventurous streak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Convenient Excuse

Remus has a bit of an adventurous streak.

"We could purchase a few of those child-proofing gates," Sherlock grits out, holding the shrieking cock at arms’ length. Joan finds herself shrinking from the word even in her own head, and so uses it deliberately, to take the shock value away.

"We could leave him in his cage," she counters, wincing as they approach the study and Romulus hears and echoes his brother’s cries. "Especially when we’re, oh, in the other room burning our roommate’s clothes for science!"

"You haven’t worn those shirts in months, they’re too worn for you to feel comfortable donating them—" Sherlock heaves Remus into the air, whereupon the chicken—the cock, just say it, Joanie—whereupon Remus squawks and flaps and kicks and lands, in a heap of talons and feathers, next to the sofa.

Romulus quiets down and begins pecking industriously at his dinner. Remus, forgetting the indignity of his rescue, goes to join him.

"He could have gone off the roof," Joan says, hearing the high disapproval in her voice and wondering why she even cares. Romulus and Remus aren’t like Clyde, for whom a small, niggling affection grows daily. He’s quiet. The chickens—the cocks—the twins, she’ll call them. The twins are loud, and they can’t be petted at all, although Joan doesn’t know if Clyde likes when she pets his shell. Maybe he doesn’t even notice.

"But he didn’t," Sherlock counters in turn, watching the twins with some satisfaction. "Look at this, Watson. Even with that rush of adrenalin, all he wants to do is settle and eat. I thought he might attack his brother, with his nerves so shaken."

"No, you didn’t," Joan sighs. Sherlock raises an eyebrow at her, and she flaps her hand at the twins as she trudges to the sofa. It’s mostly free of feathers. "If you thought there was even a chance he might hurt Romulus, you’d’ve kept them separate."

"This is a far cry from when you thought I might have eaten Clyde," Sherlock points out.

Joan rolls her eyes but says nothing. Between Clyde, and the bees, and the twins, well. She has evidence now, doesn’t she? It isn’t in Sherlock to hurt an animal.

"Of course, it could just be that I hate to be wrong."

"A convenient excuse for saving a life," Joan mutters, and can feel the atmosphere of the room change, though nothing about Sherlock’s face or posture do.

"Perhaps," is all he says. It hangs in the air a good, long while, as the twins cluck to themselves and each other, and Joan and Sherlock are silent and still.


End file.
